Every event is universal.
The pitter-patter of rain drops
Falling is but a rehearsal
Of a rain that never stops.

The blossoming of a flower
No matter what variety
Flows forth by a single power
For living in prosperity.

When a doe nurses her young,
She is an echo and a face
Of that love to be found among
Creatures which are but its trace.

Here I sit in contemplation
With these thoughts that are not mine
For they are His creation
Who fashioned them by His design.